Scary Fast
This is the jersey. The cycling jersey that helped me commit to Project Discovery. I would see those heavy guys laboring on their bicycles and I smiled at them encouraging the Clydesdales to keep going. That was awesome that they were trying to do something about their weight. I would also notice how their jerseys would be straining to keep their bulging bellies from bursting forth.This was the jersey that became snug against my belly. I looked in the mirror in panic realizing that I was becoming my worst nightmare. One of those guys I encouraged to lose weight.
Yes, the Rocket Parts bicycling jersey did it for me.
So needless to say, I have become somewhat obsessed with my weight and getting back on my bikes with some regularity. But with that obsession, comes some poor decision making.
Take this past weekend.
I go out for another butt-kicking two-hour bike ride. I can generally tell within a mile if my legs will be good. This past Saturday was going to be difficult at best. I struggled up the climbs and the final eight miles seemed to be an eternity, but somehow I made it home. My legs and butt were screaming!
Sunday comes, do I take an easy day? Hell no!!! I do that same butt-kicking two-hour ride! Dumb, dumb, dumb!!! My legs and butt were yelling at me to stop the insanity, but there I was crawling up Pierce Road in Saratoga. Within three miles from home, my legs bonked. It was a curious phenomena, my legs were totally out of gas, yet my cardiovascular system could of gone on for hours longer.
Let the mental games begin. Do I stop and cry on the side of the road? Do I admit defeat and shift to the small chainring and creep home? Images of Joe methodically chugging up mountain passes appear. Hell no!!! With the lactic acid flooding into my thighs I soldier on...somehow. Slowly my house appears around the corner. I fall off my bike, home.
It's good to be obsessed.
Fruit of my obsession...
posted by LoneCactus @ 5:07 AM
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